


catching lightning

by victry (paroxysmalirony)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor, Student Council
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7518071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paroxysmalirony/pseuds/victry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seungkwan, hands gripping onto Hansol’s hands like there is no tomorrow, looks up at the hockey player. “This is oddly intimate, don’t you think?”</p><p>Hansol shrugs again, cracking a small smile. “I don’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>[In which Hansol and Seungkwan skate around each other until one day, they don't.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	catching lightning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I'm back with yet another 98 line fic, but no angst this time lol. Also, it's set in Canada because, why not?
> 
> Title is from Can I Have This Dance from HSM 3!!
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Hey, you’re still coming to the arena after school right?” Hansol asks Seungkwan one day. It’s during their study period and the two are sat in their school’s exclusive council office working away at a particularly difficult physics question.

Seungkwan thinks his head is about three seconds from exploding, so he’s grateful for the distraction. He eagerly drops his pencil and snaps his textbook shut with a relieved sigh.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Seungkwan says, stretching out his cramped fingers. He can hear Hansol snort at the quick remark.

“Just checking.” he says, pulling out an earbud before shifting his body to face Seungkwan’s. “Chan flopped on me to hang out with Yerim, so I’m lowkey desperate. Like, you’ve seen me talk to people. I’m shit at it.” Hansol admits with a wry smile.

Seungkwan stifles a laugh, because it’s true. He’s seen Hansol’s pre-game interviews for the Knights enough times to know that public speaking is not his thing. Had it not been for his popularity, there is no way the hockey captain would have made it onto student council two years in a row.

Helping Hansol out with the charity game can’t hurt. Seungkwan shrugs. “I’ll be there.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Hansol smiles. “Now, back to that physics question…”

“I was hoping we could forget about _that_.” Seungkwan groans, running both hands through his hair. “The more I look at it, the more my brain hurts.”

“Trust, I feel you. But neither of us can afford to slip any lower into the fifties than we already are.”

As much as Seungkwan hates to, he has to admit that Hansol is right. His drama director has been breathing down his neck for the last few months because of his less than stellar performance in all things unrelated to the performance arts (ie: Advanced Functions, Biology, and Physics.).

“You’re right,” he sighs, pouting. “I can’t risk getting pulled out of the spring shows. And you’ve got way more on the line than I do... ”

“Exactly.” Hansol says, nodding. “As I was saying, Junhui texted me saying he can tutor me a bit before practice. You should come by that way we can get some stuff done for Golden Puck, too.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Seungkwan announces excitedly, only because Junhui Wen, Prime Minister of their student council, happens to be an absolute genius beneath all his ‘meme-loving fuckery’ as he likes to call it.

The bell rings just as the words leave his lips, announcing the beginning of the last and most important period of the day: Peer Support, during which Seungkwan spends 75 minutes doing absolutely nothing in his favourite teacher’s classroom. He can’t say the same for Hansol, who’s meant to be in his Calculus classroom within the next five minutes. Seungkwan shoots him a sympathetic look as he packs his things.

“Have fun in class. I’ll pray for you.”

“Thanks, man. See you later,” he laughs, stepping out of the quiet room.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you, Chan the Man.” Seungkwan proclaims as he walks into the drama room and drops his bag onto the floor.

Chan stops in his tracks and looks down at Seungkwan, who’s lying on the floor with his feet in Seokmin’s lap.

“For?” Chan prompts, taking a seat next to Seungkwan cross-legged.

“For being a thirsty little heterosexual,” Seokmin coos, poking him in the cheek.

Chan swats his hand away. “What are you even talking about…?”

“Thanks to you and your little crush on Yerim, our Seungkwan gets to go do official council business with Hansol. Alone.”

Chan flushes.

“Sorry,” he laughs nervously, looking away from his older friends. “Also, it’s not a crush if we’re dating, asshole.”

“Does _she_ know you’re dating?” Seungkwan quips, sitting upright. “Like, she’s actually aware of this little obsession of yours?”

Chan rolls his eyes but nods nonetheless. He’s not up for an argument considering there’s not much he can say to stop the teasing anyway. Chan is, however, confused about one thing.

Sure, he and Yerim had been nothing more than a ‘thing’ for the last few months of school but in the end, it had been Hansol’s idea to get him to make things official with her. In fact, Chan was looking forward to planning the charity hockey game with his friend (Not that Yerim Kim, the girl of his dreams, isn't high on the list of people he'd rather be with.).

Then it dawns on the junior.

 _Hansol Choi, you sly dog_ , Chan thinks with an impressed look directed to the drama room’s ceiling as he leans back against the wall. Suddenly, it all makes sense.

He turns to Seungkwan with a knowing smile itching to make its presence known on his face. “You’re welcome, by the way. Once again, my heterosexuality has saved the day.”

“Okay, okay let’s cool it.” Seungkwan snorts, but fails to suppress the blushing on his cheeks. “It’s not like it’s a date.”

“Dude,” Seokmin scoffs, slapping Seungkwan’s thigh. “It _so_ is.”

“I mean, I’m not complaining, or anything. Hansol’s fine as fuck and I’m going to enjoy spending the afternoon with him, and all. _However_ , there’s no point to get my hopes up. This is simply official, _platonic_ , council business.”

“You say that like you won't be live texting the entire thing in the group chat,” Chan snorts, standing up and dusting off his khaki shorts. “Anyways, I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Uh…” he starts, coming up short for a legitimate enough excuse.

“Bathroom quickie with the bae?”

Chan narrows his eyes at the two from where he stands in the doorway. “I have morals,” he huffs, and as soon as he is out the door, he pulls out his phone to type a quick text.

 

**March 20 2016, 01:24**

**From: Chan**

**To: Han Solo**

_COME TO COUNCIL_

_ASAP_

_I HAVE TEA_

**March 20 2016, 01:26**

**From: Han Solo**

**To: Chan**

_OOH SHIT IGHT_

_omw homie_

 

As soon as he receives the text, Chan makes the short trek to the student council office, and unlocks the door. He takes no time to make himself comfortable on his favourite chair, which also happened to be the room’s cleanest one, considering he's extremely adamant on who gets to place their behinds on it's plush glory.

As soon as he receives the text, Chan makes the short trek to the student council office, and unlocks the door. He takes no time to make himself comfortable on his favourite chair, which also happened to be the room’s cleanest one, considering he's extremely adamant on who gets to place their behinds on it's plush glory.

Hansol steps into the room less than a minute later. The hockey captain is out of uniform - as per usual - instead wearing a black Under Armor sweatshirt with the school’s mascot embroidered on the front. His hood is up.

“Looking real sketchy,” Chan notes aloud, eyeing the guy up and down.

“I was trying to make myself look less obvious. Seungcheol is in the hallway,” Hansol laughs. Chan scrunches his nose at the mention of the student teacher who also happens to be Hansol’s older cousin. “So what's the tea?”

“I was just with Seokmin,” Chan begins, propping his feet up on the conference table. “And Seungkwan.”

Hansol raises a brow. “Uh huh…”

“They were talking about you.”

Chan watches his elder freeze for a moment, clearing his throat. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, man.”

“What'd they say?”

“You're doing some planning for the puck game tonight. Alone. As in without me. Because I'm going on a date with Yerim. Because you told me to grow a pair and ask her to be my girlfriend. Conclusion? You're a sly one, Choi.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I see you, Hansol. I see you. Finessing your way into his life. Sliding into his DMs like you slide on the ice-”

“Oh my god, Chan,” Hansol groans, looking over his shoulder as though his cousin can hear them through the door. “Shut up,” he adds shaking his head. “But yeah, maybe I did some side planning to get us alone-”

“Ha-”

“ _But_ ,” Hansol cuts him off quickly, his index finger up. “That doesn't mean anything.”

“Yet.”

“Dude.”

“It's not like he wouldn't be open to dating you.”

“That's not exactly what I'm worried about. I mean, he's out and proud and I'm not really. What if he thinks I'm a fraud, or like some straight guy with a fetish?”

“Just be real with him… Tell him about Minghao-”

“No!” Hansol snaps, frowning. “We don't talk about… That.”

“Fine by me,” Chan shrugs, leaning his head back. “Still though, I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

“I hope you're right.”

“Put some faith in your little brother,” Chan smiles, slipping into Korean with a wink. The younger boy stands up. “Now get to class, you rascal.”

Hansol blinks. “I’m going to kick your ass.” he says in English, moving aside once Chan gets to the door and yanks it open.

“Save that spunk for calc,” Chan laughs, letting Hansol walk out before him. “See ya.”

Hansol chuckles lightly and makes his way back to his calculus class on the other side of the school. “Peace out, Channie.”

As he makes his way back to class, Chan wonders how the hell it is that he’s the one with the existent and somewhat stable love life and not his older friends. They are supposed to be the put-together ones, not him.

“Oh, the irony,” he mumbles to himself when he gets to his classroom.

 

* * *

 

“When’s your boyfriend getting here?”

Junhui is sitting at a round table with Hansol by their team’s practice rink when he finally speaks up. Hansol looks up with a horrified look on his face.

“You… he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh…” Junhui breathes, unable to hide his skepticism. He’s seen Hansol around with that boy, Seungkwan Boo, on more than one occasion. Their chemistry is so much more than platonic. Junhui isn’t blind. “Right.”

“Right,” Hansol coughs, shifting uncomfortably under Junhui’s stare.

The grade 13 sets down his pencil. “You’re not a homophobe are you?” He can’t help but ask. It would be a shame if Hansol was one of _those_ cases, he thinks, eyeing the boy.

Hansol frowns, obviously taken aback by Junhui's assumption.

“I’m bi," he says, his tone deadpan.

“Good,” Junhui huffs, picking up his pencil again. “Same though.”

This seems to get his captain’s attention, for the boy curiously raises both eyes from his unfinished physics homework.

“Actually?”

Junhui switches his pencil out for his cellphone and clicks it on, revealing his wallpaper. It’s a selfie of him and his boyfriend of two years, Jihoon. He shows it to Hansol.

“Aw, he’s adorable,” Hansol remarks with a soft smile.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Junhui snorts, setting the phone down again.

“How’d you guys meet?”

“Science Olympics in grade ten. I sort of ran right into him by accident,” he explains with a small smile. The memory isn’t necessarily a pretty one, but it makes him smile nonetheless. “I ended up with iced coffee in my hair and he ended up with a bruised knee. He even threatened to sue. It was _hilarious_.”

Hansol seems alarmed by this revelation. “Funny.”

Junhui shrugs. “It’s part of our dynamic.”

“Did you start dating after that, or…?”

“Nah, he hated me. Like, _hated_ me. We didn’t actually start dating until grade eleven. Remember that one year we played Central at playoffs, and I played like absolute shit for the first half?”

“Yeah, coach had to pull you out.”

“Let’s just say coach wasn’t the only one pulling out that day.”

Hansol gapes at him.

Junhui slaps the table with an obnoxious laugh. “I’m just pulling your leg. He asked me out, we made out a little, and it brought my spirits up. I like to think those three assists I made by the end of the game were because of him.”

Junhui wipes a laughter induced tear from his eye and sighs before going back to his own work. Hansol is still stunned if his silence is anything to go by.  
Junhui sighs and looks up. “Look, I’m sure things will work out just fine. From what I’ve seen, the guy likes you just as much as you like him. The two of you get all heart-eyes around each other. As sickening as it is, it’s sort of lowkey cute, so I tolerate it.”

Hansol cracks a small smile.

“Hey guys!”

Both athletes look up to see Seungkwan nearing them with a tray of drinks in his right hand and his backpack in the other.

“Hey, Seungkwan.” Junhui smirks, eyeing Hansol. The latter is looking everywhere but his two study companions.

“I bring tidings of good joy,” the theatre kid says, setting the tray on the table.

Junhui nods, impressed. “Boba?”

“Uh huh. I got you honeydew with tapioca,” the boy says, placing the green drink in front of him. He does the same for Hansol, only his is purple. “And I got you taro with strawberry popping boba. Just the way you like it.”

Hansol takes the beverage from Seungkwan, fingers lingering. “Thanks, Gwan.”

Junhui watches the other boy redden at the use of the nickname and stifles a laugh that he has to cover up with a cough. “So, physics,” he offers expectantly.

The two seniors ignore him completely, choosing to start their own animated conversation instead. It’s completely unrelated from physics, considering the light in their eyes hasn’t been snuffed out by long equations and memorized formulas.

_Young love._

“I’ll be right back,” Junhui tries, looking between the two and gets nothing in response. So he pockets his phone, takes his bubble tea, and stands. “Not that you care,” he adds with a touch of sarcasm.

And it’s not like he has an exact place in mind to escape the crippling awkwardness that is Seungkwan Boo and Hansol Choi’s budding romance, so he walks to the concession counter, where he knows Soonyoung is working an afternoon shift before that night’s practice. The defenseman is passing the time by tapping aimlessly on the counter before him.

“Hosh,” Junhui calls, in reference to the ridiculously fitting nickname Mrs Kwon uses for her son, who also happens to be a prospect for one of the top provincial junior league teams. “SOS.”

“What’s good, Junebug?” Soonyoung laughs, holding out his hand over the counter. They execute their handshake in perfect coordination, as always.

“I need a distraction.”

“Where’s Jihoon?”

“Sleeping,” Junhui groans, running a hand through his hair. “He’s in Korea for the week and he’s jetlagged as fuck, so…”

“So, I’m your plan B,” Soonyoung finishes, crossing his arms with a mock pout. “I’ll take it. How’s life?”

“A bitch.”

“Ah,” Soonyoung grimaces, leaning forward. “Tell Soonyoung your problems.”

“I lost three followers on my V tumblr account after making a post about why Vmin is better than Vkook.”

Soonyoung hisses painfully. “That’s brutal. Here for you, bro.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“You here with those two?” Soonyoung asks, his chin pointed at Seungkwan and Hansol, still so invested in what the other has to say.

“Yeah…" Junhui nods. "How cute?”

“Too cute, it’s sickening.”

“Right?”

“They’re so not subtle about it, either. I can see them working out, though. They’ve got this energy.”

Junhui snorts. “Energy?”

“Yeah, I read it in a book. It’s so pure.”

“Yeah,” Junhui hums, chewing on a piece of tapioca. “It is, isn’t it?”

From where he stands, Junhui can see how close the two seniors are sitting to each other. Seungkwan is speaking animatedly as they pore over what must be files concerning the charity game they’re putting on, while Hansol looks on with a look that Junhui can call none other than adoration.

 _They’ll make it work_ , he thinks as he takes a sip of tea, _I know they can._

 

* * *

 

Hansol spends the entire practice thinking of Seungkwan and the way it felt to have to other boy’s hand on top of his as they laughed together earlier. The touch had lasted no more than a second, but it was was enough to leave the athlete with a tingling feeling on his left hand hours later.

It gives him an extra bit of something he didn’t know he was missing during a handling drill, after which his coach proudly pats him on the back for with a quick “Keep it up, Choi!”.

The boy thinks of what Junhui said about that time Jihoon motivated him to play better and figures it makes sense.

When conditioning ends, and the team is dismissed for the night, Hansol is relieved. He’s tired to the point where his bones feel heavy from within and his movements are beginning to slur. Though no matter how exhausted he feels, he can't complain. It's the small price he has to pay to be the best he can on the ice.

That and the fact that he has nearly the rest of the night to do some planning with Seungkwan, who’s been sitting in the bleachers for the duration of the team’s practice waiting for him.

Hansol lazily skates along the rink’s length as the team clears out, talking loudly amongst themselves. Junhui gives him a knowing look as he glides towards him.

“Good luck,” he winks, giving a quick nod that has his sweaty hair clinging to his forehead.

Hansol rolls his eyes in response and continues his final leisurely lap as the rest of his teammates file out. Soon enough, it’s just him and Seungkwan in the rink. The latter finally stands and walks towards the barrier that separates spectators from the ice. Hansol has to mentally calm himself down before he skates towards him, out of fear. He doesn’t want to risk embarrassing himself due to his nerves.

Seungkwan leans against the boards by the penalty box. “Do you always wait till you’re the last one here before leaving?”

“Only when I’m entertaining a guest,” Hansol shrugs, looking down at his skates.

“So you bring people here often, then?” Seungkwan laughs, but Hansol can hear the pout in his voice. It leaves him more flustered than he would like to admit. “I see you.”

Hansol tilts his head, executing his own pathetic rendition of a twirl. “Maybe.”

Seungkwan gasps, clutching his imaginary perls as he leans back. “So the rumours are true! Hockey star Hansol Choi is a womanizer!”

Hansol watches him clap slowly, the sound resonating throughout the spacious arena. When he opens his mouth to speak, his tongue is dry. “I mean… I wouldn’t say _just_ ladies, you know…?”

He looks down after saying this, his cheeks burning up despite the coolness of the room.

“Oh?” Seungkwan croaks, sounding genuinely surprised. Hansol looks up. “You’re… oh. Okay. Wow.”

“Yup.”

“Wow,” he breathes again, to which Hansol chuckles, gripping the banister tightly, feeling more nervous than he thinks he should. “ _Since when?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Hansol admits, letting his helmet fall to the ice with a clank. “I kinda just figured it out one day and rolled with it.”

“You didn't feel the need to announce it or anything?”

“I didn't think it was that big of a deal…” Hansol shrugs, a little shy. He eyes Seungkwan. “Is it? A big deal, I mean.”

“No!” he objects, his brows furrowed. “I just… It would've been good to know. You know?”

Hanson shakes his head.

“No, I don't know…”

“You see…” Seungkwan starts, looking up at the artificial lights that dangles from the ceiling. “Thing is, I like you a little,” he admits quickly, finally looking down.

And Hansol is stunned.

“And I thought you were just a really nice straight boy, so I distanced myself from you emotionally and all that. I didn't want to catch feelings for a lost cause.”

“I'm not that much of a lost cause. Trust me.” Hansol says slowly, but surely. “You don't have to, like, un-catch feelings or anything.”

Seungkwan looks at him almost like he’s assessing the situation, breaking it down before moving forward. “I don't?” he asks carefully, though Hansol doesn’t think he needs to be.

“Nope. Because I like you too.” Hansol casually confesses with a shrug. “A little,” he adds, chuckling lightly.

Seungkwan blinks. “Okay, iceman. I believe you.”

“Iceman?” Hansol snorts. The power of his movement is enough to have him gliding away from Seungkwan.

“My sass doesn't do well under pressure,” the latter quips, crossing his arms over his jean jacket. “Sue me.”

“Don't worry, I like it. It makes me feel like I'm a better skater than I actually am.”

Seungkwan frowns. “You say that like you can't skate.”

“I've seen better,” Hansol admits.

He’s always been critical of his skating abilities. After all his years of playing hockey, never did they match up to his puck handling skills. He feels as though they’re a half-step behind at all times.

“As someone who can't skate, I'm offended.”

“You're lying.” Hansol exclaims, sliding forward. “You can't skate?”

“No.”

“What kind of Canadian doesn't know how to skate?” Hansol taunts, his voice echoing in the empty room.

“You know, it's during moments like these that I don't claim Canada.”

It’s then that Hansol sees an opportunity and grabs it by the reigns. “You have to let me teach you.”

“I'd rather not,” Seungkwan says, shaking his head all too quickly.

Hansol cocks his head with a smirk. “Come on,” he pleads. “Are you really going to pass on this opportunity to learn how to skate from a _prodigy_?”

“ _And he has an ego._ ”

“ _Boo_ _._ ”

To say that Hansol is simply satisfied with the visible change in Seungkwan’s otherwise level-headed composure would qualify as the Understatement of the Year.

“Fine,” the boy huffs, looking away. “When do I start my lessons?”

Hansol looks around the rink. The Zamboni guy isn’t supposed to come around for another half-hour, which is more than enough time to sneak in a lesson.

“How about now?”

“You're kidding, right?” Seungkwan inquires skeptically.

“Why would I be? There's a shit ton of skates in that box right there. Pick your size and let's get cracking!”

“I hate you,” Seungkwan whines, but walks towards the box of reserve skates nonetheless. “I hate Canada. Take me back to Jeju…”

“Always so dramatic,” Hansol laughs, skating away from the penalty box. “Now hurry up and join me. I charge by the minute!”

At that, Seungkwan accelerates his movements and removes his shoes. Within the next minute, he has on a pair of black figure skates and is waddling towards the gate.

Hansol skates towards him with both his hands held out in invitation. “I got you.”

Seungkwan takes a tentative step onto the ice, reaching out to Hansol. Their hands meet halfway, Hansol’s clammy fingers weaving with Seungkwan’s warm ones. The former gently pulls the actor forward.

Seungkwan’s voice is shaky when he speaks. “Don't let go.”

“I won't.”

Seungkwan glides across the slick surface with a breathy “ _Aigoo_.”

“ _It's okay,_ ” Hansol assures him in Korean, earning a laugh from the other boy, whose hands are equally as sweaty by that point. “ _You’re okay_.”

He pulls Seungkwan closer, urging him to skate forward. And he does, albeit clumsily and tentative.

Seungkwan, hands gripping onto Hansol’s hands like there is no tomorrow, looks up at the hockey player. “This is oddly intimate, don’t you think?”

Hansol shrugs again, cracking a small smile. “I don’t mind.”

“Same,” Seungkwan smiles, and Hansol feels _too much_ to put into words. “Same.”

 

* * *

 

Seungkwan ends the night with a bruised ass solely from the amount of times he’s fallen on the ice― a grand total of 7 times, but the kiss on the forehead he gets from Hansol in consolation makes up for it.

And they don’t much planning done, their original goal thrown out the window the moment they stepped into the empty locker room after his impromptu skating lesson (after which he doesn’t think he’ll ever be trying again.).

 _God bless Student Council_ , Seungkwan thinks when Hansol’s lips are pressed against his own.

Hansol has his hands delicately holding on to Seungkwan’s face in a way that leaves the latter feeling weak in the knees. It’s strange, really. He didn’t expect Hansol to be so… Soft.

“I’m not soft,” Hansol says, pulling away slowly, letting Seungkwan know that he’d spoken aloud. He feels his face redden. “You’re just… special, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, man.” Hansol laughs, a little embarrassed. “You have more power over me than you think,” he admits.

 _I could say the same for you_ , Seungkwan thinks with a swift shake of the head.

“You know,” Seungkwan starts, lacing his fingers through Hansol’s. “We got, like, no work done. At all.”

Hansol hisses at the realization. “There’ll be other times?”

Seungkwan raises a brow.

“I mean, if you want…”

“Don’t be stupid, of course I want to. I didn’t get on council by sitting on my ass all the time. I happen to like hard, grueling, elbow-deep-”

“I get your point.” Hansol laughs, letting go of Seungkwan to finish packing his sports bag. “How does tomorrow sound?”

“I’ll be here after rehearsals.”

“With bubble tea?”

“Don’t push it.”

Hansol pouts.

“ _Fine_ ,” Seungkwan mutters, taking a seat on the bench across Hansol. He crosses his legs and pulls out his phone. One look at the screen has him wincing.

“Everything cool?”

“I have fifteen missed calls and thirty texts from Seokmin, no big deal though.”

“Clingy,” Hansol muses.

“Tell me about it,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes, standing up. “He’s waiting for me outside, though so that’s my cue to peace the hell out of here.”

“Call me?”

“In your dreams!” he calls over his shoulder as he walks out of the locker room. He can hear Hansol laugh at his parting words and makes a mental note to leave him a text later that night.

If Seungkwan walks with a bounce in his steps as he exits the arena, he doesn’t notice, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of his evening with Hansol’s fine self.

The vocalist whistles happily on his way to Seokmin’s black Jeep Wrangler. Once he reaches it and pulls the passenger door open, he’s met with a less-than-happy Seokmin Lee, puffing away on a nearly finished cigarette.

His window is open but Seungkwan still chokes at the smell.

“Those things will kill you,” he singsongs, closing the door and buckling himself in. “I thought you quit.”

“I was feeling on edge waiting here for your ass.”

“Mama Lee won’t be happy.”

“Mama Lee won’t know.”

“You smell like an ashtray-”

“And you smell like athlete and, uh what was it,” Seokmin starts, feigning a loss for words. He snaps his fingers. “ _Hansol Choi_!”

“Okay, how do you know what he smells like…?”

“I was kidding, but consider yourself caught, Kwannie!”

Seungkwan groans, burying his head in his hands. He leans forward onto the dashboard, using the cluttered surface as a headrest.

“What were you guys doing, huh?”

“Physics, council stuff, kissing, skating,” Seungkwan lists, his voice muffled by what he hopes isn’t one of Seokmin’s stray socks. “The usual.”

Seokmin is quiet for a moment, so naturally, Seungkwan is worried for his safety. When he looks up, Seokmin has his phone in Seungkwan’s face. The older boy is proudly filming the moment, his flash quite literally _blinding_ Seungkwan in the process.

“Say that again!” he giggles, pinching Seungkwan’s cheek. “For the group chat!”

Seungkwan would complain, but there is no deterring a determined Seokmin Lee. So, he puts on his best MC voice and says, “Boys, you were all right. I, Seungkwan Boo, just made out with Hansol Choi. _My ass is lit_!”

Seokmin whoops and honks his horn to a random beat. It’s disruptive, but it’s Seokmin.

“Mingyu says congrats, Chan says ‘ _I told you so_ ’, and Minghao wants you to remember to use protection.”

“Tell Mingyu I love him, Chan to fuck off, and Minghao…” Seungkwan starts, shaking his head. “I have no words for him.”

“I mean, he’s right-”

“Take me home.”

“But-”

Seungkwan shrugs. “No seafood soup for you, then.”

At that, Seokmin turns the key in the ignition, but not before blasting and old Bangtan song on his revamped sound system. The bass is strong enough that Seungkwan can feel it in his chest.

Seokmin gasps out of nowhere once the car reaches the kiss and ride. “Is that Hansol?”

“Not falling for it.” Seungkwan snaps, but Seokmin is unfazed, and the car comes to a full stop at the curb.

“ _Choi!_ ”

“ _Lee, my man!_ ”

Seungkwan freezes in his seat at the sound of Hansol’s voice.

“I’m just driving old Boo, here, home.” Seokmin says, his hand coming down on Seungkwan’s shoulder with a loud smack.

“Hey,” Seungkwan croaks from his seat.

“Hey,” Hansol nods. His smile is almost as knowing as Seokmin’s, only a lot less shit-eating.

Seokmin snorts at the exchange. “There’s a bowl of seafood soup with my name on it at the Boo residence, so I gotta run,” he explains quickly, patting the steering wheel. “See you later?”

“Yeah, man,” Hansol agrees, shaking his hand again. “Seungkwan?”

The boy looks up. His eyes are wide and he knows it. “Hmm?”

“I’ll call you,” Hansol says, and walks away to his old Subaru.

Under the weight of Seokmin’s stare, Seungkwan sinks lower in his seat. The older boy begins to drive away.

“Don’t say anything.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Seokmin chuckles, shaking his head. “You guys are cute though. So smitten with each other, it kills me.”

“Smitten? You sound like something out of the Fifties, my friend.”

“I’m just saying,” Seokmin explains, his eyes on the road― as they should be. “This is good. This is progress. And I’m happy for you.”

Seungkwan considers these words for a moment. It’s true that he _has_ liked Hansol for a while, so he lets his friend win this round.

“Aren’t _you_ happy?”

And he is. He really, truly is so happy that he can hardly contain the smile that threatens to show on his lips and betray his emotions to the world, even if it is just he and Seokmin in the vehicle.

He bites his lip and nods.

“Fuck yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> The ending kinda sucks bc I didn't really know where this was going, but thanks for reading anyways LOL


End file.
